It seems like only yesterday that we met you for the first time.  It was a cold, March night and, while picking up an injured dog at the track, we asked your trainer if we could see Noble Tully, since we had already adopted his sister, Noble Mason (Alexandra), but were told that you had already been put back in your crate.  He finally relented and said he would bring you out again.  While we stood at the front of the kennel, we saw what appeared to be an apparition running toward us, pushing your way through a sea of greys.  You put your paws up on the half door and, with those lovely amber eyes, looked directly into ours as if to say “have you finally come for me, too?”  Little did we know that a few months later, we would be picking you up due to a serious injury.  Once your leg had been repaired, you came home to join your sister and our first boy, Nicklaus.  From the very first day you fit into our family as if you had been there forever.  Because of your ethereal beauty and sweet, gentle nature, everyone seemed to fall in love with “our” Tully.

The following year, your brother, Noble Pratt (Tsar), finished his racing career and ended up on one of our couches, also.  The three of you “hung” around together and we even dubbed you and your brother the “goofy boys” because of your silly antics.  You and Alexandra would compete as to who could roach the longest.  Your other two sisters, Noble Osage (Osage) and Noble Rapids (Lucy), were adopted by two of our very good friends, so practically your whole Noble family was in close proximity and were all together at one time or another.

We had some very good times over the next 4+ years, going to the dog park, attending Meet & Greets, vacationing in Florida and even attending the Great Lakes Greyhound Gathering.  We were all healthy and happy and, most importantly, were all together.  Life was good.  We never imagined that the day would come when this happy scene would end so abruptly.

It started with a limp…  We thought you had sprained your wrist while jumping around with your brother in anticipation of your morning walk.  After a few days, the limp got more pronounced and, shortly after that, it turned into a hop.  When the vet made her initial examination, she said she wanted to take an x-ray just to make sure nothing was amiss.  The x-ray revealed a shadow near your front wrist.  The vet was not sure what she was seeing and referred us to a specialist.  On the Wednesday of your appointment, our idyllic world came crashing down as it was confirmed that you had the dreaded osteo.  We kept asking ourselves “How could this happen to such a young, healthy boy, our golden boy, Tully?”  Our choices of treatment were limited, but whatever we chose, your time with us would soon end.  We would have done anything in our power to keep you with us for as long as possible.  As it was, the decision was made for us.  On the morning of your first scheduled treatment, you were excitedly hopping around the living room and slipped and fell.  That day turned into our worst nightmare.  When the vet examined you later, he confirmed that you had shattered your wrist.

The time had come to make that final decision and end your pain.  So on Friday, November 3, 2006, our sweet Tully left his family and crossed over to the bridge.  Your big, gentle heart was stilled, but will continue beating in our hearts forever.  Our hearts break when we realize we will never again gaze into those incredible “Egyptian” eyes of yours or kiss that big, black polar bear nose.  We will think of you whenever we see your favorite carrot, the bone that never left your side and all your beautiful green collars.

Race with the angels, Noble boy, until we meet once again at the finish line.

Noble Tully

“Tully”
July 22 , 1999 – November 3, 2006